Thursday, April 8, 2021

this scar on my left knee


is a pink flower petal

faded & crumpled origami 


a time-stamped map

my school girl's body turning to jump 


out from a van

as if i have wings


instead of coltish legs & black 

polished shoes


the door swinging back

its pointed edge, dull rusty blade on my skin


my eyes, once carefree & blind

suddenly became cautious 


of leaping & falling 

blind as maple leaf during autumn


(how i admire the faith of baby birds) 

i had other scars since then 


but you never forget the first time

you see your flesh, not a wrapped & bound book


but a living tissue, popping fat & pulsing 

red blood & bones, tiny veins


fragile as roots 

of a spring bulb



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:  MTB, The Body & Poetry - where I am hosting about writing a body part/s as part of my history.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  


Tuesday, April 6, 2021

{happiness}


i pluck happiness

from a pot of soil

it was wet from April rain

dazzling as first cherry bloom


i wash its

plumb leaves gently & encased it in glass

an ivory in perfect repose & sunshine 

muffling all the sadness in the rooms

but in the coming days


it was a dying 

flower shedding its petals

blackening roots

shrinking

losing its colors, spice & flavor


quietly, it begged to be released

as a monarch butterfly

as a wild bird

uncaged, unfiltered, unmarked


over the back yard

& out into the sky

i toss it like a ball

of dragon fire

hissing above the pine trees


{i heard laughter}



In response to my original post:    {sadness}

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics - Flipping Meanings.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.


Tuesday, March 30, 2021

Spin cycle: Spring

 

I fluff & fold away

winter blankets & thick socks

And put to wash my clothes 

on cold water spin cycle


The sun spreads marmalade 

hues on garden of budding greens

On the clotheslines

I hang 

flowering apostrophes & metaphors

and pin the conjugated verbs

with brown clips 


I flick away

the dewdrops of commas

stuck on my shirts

& shake out the dirt 

of hypenated syllabic words

hiding in my coat pockets


Later on, I will

pluck them & toss them all in the

laundry basket

unsorted & missing pairs & sun wrinkled

smell of maple syrup 

in the spring air



Posted for dVerse Poets pub- Poetics - Put Your Words in a Spin cycle - Hosted by De Jackson.


Tuesday, March 23, 2021

A Painter Without A Brush

 

the brush is a mongrel moon

a sop of soap stone, lump of foolish

grains in my hands, grey from winter


my fingertips are callous

unfeeling of any rhythm on canvas

i am slumbering shadow of dust


among the fine selections of books in garden

the sun brings a jingle of spring's eyes

as bouquet of wildflowers for the first


time & i am enamored with torrential clouds

of hues, shapes & hollows & tangent of words, whorls

of verses, as if famished, i drink it slowly


colors infuse & thrum, sharp as limes & lemons

my lips are basted by magenta & saffron spice

uncorked, honeycomb drips unabashed on ground


bees alight in morning blush of dewdrop

as if i am apricot tulip, budding rosy 

a new day, i 

am



Title from:  A Painter Without a Brush (Gerhard Richter)


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub -  Poetics:  The Poet as Painter,  Hosted by Laura Bloomsbury.   Please join us for a wonderful prompt at 3pm EST.

Thursday, March 11, 2021

rush of sunshine

 

when midnight strikes, i'm a thief

swallowing pale moon

penning words, as wintered trees

reveal bones - hush - soon.

sunshine lingers, love

etches a spell, rush of gold

i await - spring's dove



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry form:  Sequidilla.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visit.

Seguidilla has seven syllable-counted lines (7,5,7,5:5,7,5), and rhymes the second and fourth, and the fifth and seventh lines (x,A,x,A,B,x,B)

Thursday, February 11, 2021

this winter morning (when it is -9 C)

 

the house is a tinder-

box of memories


windows overlook small garden

of papaya trees & bougainvilleas

so pink as delicate buds


our room of mint green curtains

is now empty of furnitures


a place of light & laughter

a world sieved in tropical colors


i smell sugar coated 

yams, rice-wrapped delicacies, 

unmistakable coconut palm breeze


wafting air

of celebratory spirit,

despite the tinge of sadness


our luggages all packed up

with boxes filled with 15 summer beach joys

& windswept photo albums

& sun dried clothes

& sugar cane fields


i take with me

this snapshot of my life -

& leave


the car 

& house keys

my purse bursting of anxious

gratefulness for tomorrow



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Meeting the Bar - Setting (Time and Place).  Thanks for joining in.


Thursday, January 14, 2021

Waltzing at night

 

this notebook is a bear

-hug I need

warm as fuzzy blanket

on winter night


my pen stirs the soup

of longing sun

of butterfly wishes

of spring seeds & peppermint sky


and i am there

with you


each page, smooth

spoonful of sugar custard


each chapter, drum

-beat of heady blues & wine


i fold its hands

cupped with sangria flowers

of my secrets



Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - MTB:   Personification and Imagery.  Use any or both of these poetic devices in your poem.

Please joing us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. 



Tuesday, January 5, 2021

{sadness}


 i left sadness as a half-peeled onion

on a platter

it saw no sunshine

but to my surprise, it grew

speckled leaves

the color of my eyes &

roots, the shape of my feet


i planted it in pot of soil

nurtured by winter cold symphony

& northern darkness

no petals grew

nor sweet fruits of long summer days


instead its roots spread

warming my blood

as spice, flavor, fire

in my belly

it became part of my body

watercolors my hours

& underlines my little joys


whistling with sigh & shiver 

hush of pine trees



Inspired by my Photo of the Growing Half-Peeled Onion

"Color arrives,
sometimes when
you least expect it."  
Inspired from post from Brain Pickings 

Inspired Poem by W. S. Mervin


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - A Conversation, hosted by Sarah Connor.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.